New Information – Yaz Chronicles VII

Finally learned why Yaz has developed the dry cough she currently has.  According to another vet’s input on the matter, the hospital that initially treated her seems to have scraped her trachea while inserting a breathing tube.  I originally had questions about the intubation, as that hospital first stapled the tube to her face, and then applied glue to the staples that, when removed, also took her skin and a small portion of her snout and nostril with it.

So, her trachea is irritated and she feels as if she has to cough to clear it.  It’s not uncommon to deliver damage or irritation to the throat when inserting a tube – and it was to aid in her breathing after all – I’m just happy it’s not damage to her lungs or pneumonia, as was originally feared.

She’s really coming around, health-wise, though is still showing the limp in her front left foot (completely treatable and non-life threatening), and sometimes her back legs will wobble a bit.  Her breathing seems to have returned to normal, and she continues to improve every day.

 

Day Five – Yaz Chronicles VI

Yaz climbed into bed with me around midnight and curled up, as she has in the past – but not since her accident.  I woke up immediately, as I’m a fairly light sleeper anyway.  She seemed fine, but wanted comfort, as she lay down pressed up against my side.

I lay there in the dark, thinking events through, and realized how damn lucky I am to have such loving and compassionate beings around me…and I don’t mean just the dogs, but everyone who has contacted me and offered their well-wishes.  I thought about the facility that erred most reprehensibly, yet still did what was needed to save her life.  I thought of Yaz lying on that street, the panicked look in her eyes, and quickly pushed that out of my thoughts.  This was not a time to dwell on that.  It was time to look forward to her full recovery.

She shifted beside me, in obvious discomfort, though her breathing was much better than it had been even 24 hours before.  I scratched behind her ears, and she rolled over and offered me the lengthy expanse of her belly, something she hadn’t done in awhile.

She went in to the vet’s yesterday, and they’re removing smaller and smaller amounts of air from her chest cavity.  An encouraging sign.  She limps on her left side, with good reason (she was struck along the full length of her left side), and favors her front left foot.  We’re not sure why at this point.  It’s not swollen, but she won’t stand on it fully.

Some of the scrapes that gouged furrows in her skin are beginning to heal.  She’s developed a kind of cough that might just be damage to her trachea, but we’ll continue to monitor in case it’s a sign of pneumonia.  Her energy level has been high.  In fact, she wanted to chase the neighbor’s cat yesterday.  Thank goodness she was leashed, for she obviously forgets the trauma she’s been through and tries to be the puppy again.

We visited the dog park for a few minutes so she could greet her many dog and human friends, but we left before she decided she felt well enough to engage in play.  She remained on-leash the whole time, so I could monitor her actions.

My other pups, Ozzie and Malai, are finally approaching her again without hesitation.  The first few days, they avoided her, sensing that she’d been injured or was ill.  Last evening, Malai gave Yaz’s head and face a good licking.  And Yaz allowed it.

So…slowly we resume our lives, though our routines are different for the time being.  Yaz can’t do the 1-1/2 hour morning walk, but must be okay with the twenty minute walk she gets before I leave for the office.  She seems to be all right with that.  For now.

Surely, my Thanksgiving came early this year.  To see her doing this well is amazing.  I’m thankful that she chose to stay with us, for there’s surely so much more I can learn from her.

Unsavory Characters – Yaz Chronicles V

Got an interesting call from the owner of the emergency clinic that threatened to not treat Yaz or to euthanize her if I could not pay up front.  Apparently, he didn’t care for the email I sent out to my dog friends regarding the unprofessional treatment we received at his facility.

From what I understand, the term “freedom of speech” allows each and every person reading this blog to voice their dissent if an unsavory and unethical business owner attempts to hold a beloved animal “ransom” in treatment vs. payment.  As I have stated all along, it’s not defamatory when it’s true.

The business owner in question is defending himself by stating that his “survallanice” (sic) tapes show they did nothing wrong.  I doubt very much there is an audio track included in that account; therefore, he has no way of knowing what was said and is merely bluffing his way through a situation that might’ve gone away a lot faster had he not chosen to call me on my personal cell phone and threaten me.

From the many responses received via email, it seems that this unsavory character has a long history of “cashing in” on people’s emotions in their time of need.  It also seems that he has alienated not only a great number of potential customers, but other veterinarians in the area and several animal rescue groups.

I will refrain from beating this issue any further and will continue to post updates on Yaz’s progress.

(Update:  I have issue a formal apology, as follows, to the owner of the “offended” animal hospital.)

Dear <redacted>,

Now that the furor has died down, I’d like to extend my apologies for the ruckus caused by my email.  I will likewise email those I contacted originally and do the same.  I reserve the right to disagree with the policies you set in place for your business, as I continue to feel that demanding payment in full up front in an EMERGENCY

is unethical and unprofessional, but so be it.  As I’ve said before, you have to live with yourself.  Know that I have this knowledge, I will certainly make other choices in the event of a future emergency and will direct others to other, more suitable facilities when asked.

I’ve heard from many sources that you are egregiously misrepresenting the facts and the focus of my original complaint, and I maintain (with a witness and a digital audio recording) my stance on this matter.  However, I choose not to waste any more time or energy on it.  Certainly we both have other, more important things to contend with.

I will hereby refrain from any further comments about your business or yourself, but do so only under duress and with extreme prejudice.

Christian M. Lyons

The 180 – Yaz Chronicles IV

Wow.  To quote a song: what a difference a day makes.

Yaz’s labored breathing yesterday morning, prompting a trip back to the hospital, is due to liters of air filling up her chest cavity and compressing her lungs, forcing her to take shallow breaths, which in turn exacerbates the problem.  Over the past 48 hours, she has had 4.75 liters of air drained from her chest.  Picture two 2-liter soda bottles filled with air, then add 3/4 of a third bottle.  That’s a lot of air, even for a big pup like Yaz.  However, once the doc drains it from her, it’s like she undergoes an amazing transformation.

I stopped by yesterday afternoon to check in on her, and I wondered if perhaps the staff at the hospital had exchanged Yaz for another, healthier dog.  She stood when I came in (on her own!), her tail beating an arrhythmic pattern on the wall.  A doggie grin lit up her face.

“What…?  What changed?” I asked, incredulous.

The vet tech, Brandy, smiled and said, “The only thing different today is that we haven’t given her any pain meds.  At all.”

And it all suddenly made sense.

Yaz is sensitive to chemicals in her body, but because of my stress over her injuries, I’d forgotten.  So, allowing her body to deal with the injuries on its own, she suddenly made a 180 in her prognosis.  Where yesterday I was steeling myself for the inevitable, by the end of the day, my heart soared with hope.

She walked out of the doc’s office on her own last evening, and made her way immediately to the water bowl near the door and proceeded to drain it.  Then she hobbled over to the treat canister sitting on the front desk of the vet’s reception area and sat carefully, looking between me and the treats.

Are you kidding? I thought.  She’s hungry?

She wolfed down five treats.  I had to tell her to wait until we got home so she could get a proper meal.  Then I walked her outside, where promptly squatted and peed, then squatted twice more to empty her bowels.

I was astounded at the sudden turnaround.

It’s as if she’s decided to get healthy in spite of the discovery of a broken pelvis, two broken ribs, a damaged liver, and breathing issues.  She’s quite young – having just turned 2 on the 27th of October, so she has that on her side.  But I also feel that it’s the overwhelmingly positive response we’ve gotten from our friends.

Thank you so very much for your thoughts, prayers, candles, and well-wishes over the past couple of days.  I know you’ve kept me going through this…and obviously, you’ve all made an incredible impact on Yaz, who has received your blessings and used them to begin healing herself.

I will continue to log her progress here.  We hope you’ll continue to read and put us in your thoughts.

And may all your kindness be returned to you in abundance.

The Longest Road – Yaz Chronicles III

Was concerned about her this morning after she failed to be able to eliminate her bowels or bladder.  Her torso looked painfully bloated.  I knew that there was air building up inside her chest cavity again…source unknown, or at least trying to find it would be a nearly futile endeavor.  So as soon as the vet’s office opened, I took her in.

She’s a trooper, I can say that.

Dr. Donald Dodge at Jasper Animal Hospital is a miracle worker, and I have entrusted the care of my animals to him for a couple years now, and can truthfully state that I would trust him with my own life if it came to that.  That’s the mark of a great, compassionate professional.

He lay down on the floor next to Yaz and sweet-talked her for several minutes, running his skilled hands over her distended abdomen.  Her tail thumped the floor and a light came on in her eyes.  Yaz recognized him as the healer he is, and she so desperately wants to heal.

Dr. Dodge suggested a round of radiographs immediately, followed by bloodwork to determine if any of her major organs were malfunctioning.  He also drained 2 liters of air from her chest cavity.  The results were nothing short of miraculous, as she looked so normal laying there on the table with her usual goofy grin on her face and her tail working overtime.

The doc requested I leave her there for the day, which I did.  Then I retreated to the sanctuary of my car in the parking lot and allowed the tears to come.  I hate to see any animal suffer, and she was so obviously suffering.  I held a spark of hope deep in my heart, though, that she will pull through.

Ran by the supermarket on the way home to buy some comfort food – mashed potatoes – and my cell phone rang just as I was checking out.

“It’s Dr. Dodge.”

I forced the fear away that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Yaz is doing much better, and I have the results of her bloodwork and radiographs.”

I listened, having to lean against the wall for support.

“Her bloodwork is normal, so there is no noticeable damage to her soft tissue.  The air in her chest concerns me, but it isn’t life threatening, so I’m going to sit on that one for now.  I would rather drain the air daily than go exploring in there looking for a needle in a needlestack.  Her liver count is elevated, which tells me that she might’ve experienced some liver damage in the impact, but I’m not seeing that she’s bleeding out into her abdomen at this time, so like the air issue, we’ll sit on that one for now.”

There was something in his voice that made me clench my fists nearly as tightly as I closed my eyes.

“However, the car must’ve hit her pretty hard, because she definitely has a broken pelvis.”

What was left of my broken heart withered in my chest.  I escaped the supermarket as new tears came.  He explained that there wasn’t anything they could do for the pelvis other than keep her sedentary for several months.  I asked the question that was begging to be given voice

What…how bad does it have to be before you suggest…euthanization?

My voice hitched in the middle, emotions threatening to carry me away.  But the doc offered another glimmer of hope.

“We’re a long LONG way from that.  These are all fixable issues.  It’ll take time, but it can be done.”

Knowing that she’s in such pain is unendurable for me.

I wish for her peace and painlessness, if only for an hour or two so she can relax, so she can be the loving pup she’s always been.

The Road Back – Yaz Chronicles II

The first night was rough.  I awoke several times to find that Yaz had somehow gotten from her bed and was standing nearby looking at me as if to ask: What’s happened to me?  What is this awful pain?

I know she’s in horrid pain, for each exhale travels on the back of a gentle whine.

The vet has determined that she has fractured ribs, but thankfully, nothing else seems to have been too badly damaged in the accident.

Right now, she’s unable to use her legs properly.  She stands like a newborn foal, kind of crooked and leaning to one side, as if unable to trust her own body.  She takes several steps and then has to stop.  Perhaps the pain is too much, or maybe she’s confused as to her new situation.

I slept curled around her through the bumpy night, awaking at the slightest hitch in her breathing or twitch of a muscle.

But she made it.

First night, past.  I breathe a sigh of worried relief.

Her appetite is good, though I don’t want to overload her because she has yet to do her business in the yard.  I carry her to and from the grass, but she stands awkwardly and can’t seem to figure out what she’s supposed to do.  So after several minutes, I hoist her up and carry her back to bed, where she seems grateful to be lying down once more.

I’ve arranged to take the next couple days from work, though can’t really afford to do much more than that with my schedule.  In the meantime, we continue to watch and hope for the best outcome we can have.  She’s young.  I hope that works in her favor.

Watching…and waiting – Yaz Chronicles I

The unthinkable has happened.

Just a week ago, I was commenting to a friend and fellow dog-lover about how Yaz is a “runner,” a dog whose body is just made to run and run and run.  When she’s in motion, she’s like a poem unfolding before your eyes.  Otherwise she’s clutzy and constantly tripping/falling/tumbling.  And I said to my friend that I’m worried that one morning she’s going to take off and get hit by a car or something.

And that’s what happened this morning.

A block from home, she suddenly took off and disappeared quickly in the darkness of the early morning.  We walked through the chill air, calling for her.  When we reached the main thoroughfare near our home, a car pulled onto the street and accelerated.  Within seconds, the thump and scream of an animal in agony.

The driver didn’t stop, but merely slowed, then sped off.  I ran, her name tearing from my throat as her cries ripped my heart in two.

She wasn’t dead, but blood coated her teeth and she lay in the street, unable to get up, her breathing ragged.  I dragged her from the road and collapsed with her in my lap on the sidewalk, yanking my cell phone from my pocket and calling the first person I could think of: neighbor and friend Nancy, whose dog’s we’d sat for many times.  Nancy has become like a godmother to my pups and I trust her implicitly.  She arrived, hair amuss and in her pajamas (it was 4:30 a.m. after all) and helped me load the dogs into her car, and then we transported Yaz to the only emergency vet clinic in the area.

After arguing with the emergency staff over payment (I hadn’t thought to bring my wallet), and they threatened to refuse treatment, I counter-threatened them with contacting the state regulatory agency that licensed them.  They relented and grudgingly treated her.

As soon as my vet’s office opened, I arranged to pick Yaz up – she’d since been stabalized – and moved her.

She has fractured ribs and potentially a collapsed lung.  The vet is worried about fluid build-up, and so is keeping her stable with oxygen and fluids.  She’s responsive as she can be around the pain meds she’s kept on.  Don’t know much more than that.

So for now, it’s a watching and waiting thing.

And hoping.

Happy Burfday, Spaz!

Though still a little rough around edges, bringing Yaz into our home was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made.
She earns the nickname “Yaz the Spaz” every day, and that’s one of her most endearing qualities.

So…happy 2nd Burfday, Yaz!  You’re amazing!

Liberation

Sometimes, one must re-visit one’s priorities.

Last spring, I began volunteering for the Rocky Mountain Great Dane Rescue.  For six months, I immersed myself in fundraising for the rescue, and enjoyed every second of it. I didn’t know when I got involved that it would be like taking on a second 40-hour a week job, but it was. It fulfilled me in many ways.

But one morning I awoke with a troubled feeling that refused to be named.  I set about trying to call it out, identify itself to me.  And it did. Eventually.

We all harbor ways in which we secretly sabotage our own efforts at attaining goals.  Sometimes we can be quite sneaky about it, couching our methods in ways that, on the surface, seem quite philanthropic and admirable.  Lurking underneath, however, is still an aversion to success.

Met with a good friend and fellow writer this past weekend, our discussion focused on my concern that he was blocked in his writing and that it was affecting his participation in our writing group.  He admitted that he was fearful of not being “perfect.”  We discussed that at length, during which I admitted my own fear: rejection.  I’ve written drafts of 25 novels, but have only submitted a handful of times to agents.  I feel as if I’ve cultivated a persona as a “darling’ of the writing conference circuit…and perhaps that is merely my way of searching for the courage to believe in myself.  And I realized that it’s hypocritical to coach someone through their fear, yet haven’t found my own path to conquering fear.

Afterward, as I was driving home, the troubled feeling I’d been having came into focus. It was like looking at an abstract painting and everyone around you is seeing what’s there…except you.  The animal rescue?  A diversion.  A clever way of justifying not sending my writing out.

Oh, I don’t have time today, I’ll do it later.

Right.

So that was an eye opener, a punch to the solar plexus.

On Monday, I resigned from the rescue so that I could work toward regaining control of my time, creating more space to devote to writing.  Even though I still wrote quite a bit, it was writing into the void…no real timeline for submitting my work.

Well, that’s all changed now.

I’m back on task.

 

Never Get Tired of This!

When pet owners resemble their pets…